


Sunlight in Steel

by Winterling42



Series: I am also a We [12]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 02:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterling42/pseuds/Winterling42
Summary: After a dangerous misstep in his hunt for Sabien, Fjord gets patched up in a garden he doesn't know...





	Sunlight in Steel

Fjord made it to his truck, barely. He kept his jacket wrapped tightly around his body, to hide the blood, and kept his head down as he stumbled through the empty parking lot. Once safely locked inside the rusty steel cab, he let the black leather fall open to see the long red slice across his chest. “Fuck,” he hissed, closing his eyes just for a second. 

And when he opened them, there was sunlight. Gold and heavy with summer dust, it poured down across the large vegetable garden with an almost physical force. Fjord was leaning back against the cool(er) stone of a garage or shed of some kind, looking out over neat rows of tomatoes, cucumbers, even a patch of corn back towards the fence. A couple feet away, an unnaturally tall man was looking at him with the sort of deer-in-the-headlights alarm Fjord had  _ hoped _ to hit the smugglers with, before. 

“Hi,” he said, a little vaguely because every time he breathed in his chest screamed at him. 

“Oh, my.” The man pushed back the floppy brim of his head, revealing the slightly wilted ends of a pink mohawk. “Are you...okay, there?” 

Fjord grimaced in reply and leaned/fell over, reaching blindly for the first aid kit under the truck’s passenger seat. He couldn’t quite stifle the noise he made when he hit the seat, but he could refuse the tears that gathered traitorously at the edges of his vision. 

Mr. mohawk gardener helped him sit up again, after stripping off a worn pair of gloves, and started digging through the kit while Fjord leaned back and breathed. “So you’re the reason I was in that warehouse,” the gardener went on, flicking his eyes up at Fjord every few seconds. “What’s your name then, friend?” 

Fjord made a face, but he couldn’t see the reason in lying to one of his imaginary friends, or whatever they were. “Fjord,” he said, and in the same exhale, “You?” 

“Caduceus,” the goth gardener said, like that was a perfectly normal name to have. “Caduceus Clay.” He smiled as he pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. 

“Caduceus,” Fjord repeated, raising an eyebrow, but it wasn’t like he was in any place to judge. Slowly, he maneuvered until he was facing the gardener in the passenger seat, wincing at every movement. 

In the garden, Caduceus reached out and put a slow hand on Fjord’s chest. He was only studying the cut, but it had been so long since anyone had touched him that gently, so he could barely feel it...

“We’re going to need to get that shirt off,” Caduceus said, and if Fjord hadn’t hurt so much he would have laughed. 

Instead, it was the longest ten minutes of his life to pull the black leather down around his shoulders, swallowing a whimper every time his arms moved. He hadn’t realized how even his  _ elbows _ were attached to the cleanly sliced muscles across his chest. And Caduceus was mostly quiet, murmuring sympathy and reassurance every now and then as he tugged ever so slowly at Fjord’s jacket. 

When it was done, Fjord managed to say, “Wait,” in something very unlike a Texan accent. He stopped immediately, cursing furiously at himself. He was dizzy from pain and blood loss, caught off guard by the smell of crushed grass and fresh dirt. By the concern in Caduceus’s pale face and paler eyes. 

“I think we’ve got something...” Caduceus dug around again in the kit, which was really just an old suitcase Fjord and Sabien had packed half a Walgreens into, for when they were on shore and wanted to do something stupid. Now it was Sabien Fjord was trying to find, if only to tear his teeth out until he admitted why he’d done it. 

“Aha!” Caduceus held up a pair of silver shears with another grin. “I think we can just cut up the shirt.” 

“Yeah,” Fjord sighed, accent firmly back in place. “Let’s do that.” 


End file.
